s immortal, who
shall hold.

"_Akwab, abareek_"--cups and goblets, brimming with celestial wine,
Wine that hurts not head or stomach: this and fruits of heav'n which
shine.

Bright, desirable; and rich flesh of what birds they relish best.
Yea! and--feasted--there shall soothe them damsels fairest, stateliest;

Damsels, having eyes of wonder, large black eyes, like hidden pearls,
"_Lulu-l-maknun_": Allah grants them for sweet love those matchless
girls.

Never in that Garden hear they speech of folly, sin, or dread,
Only PEACE; "_SALAMUN_" only; that one word for ever said.

PEACE! PEACE! PEACE!--and the "Companions of the Right Hand" (ah!
those bowers!)
They shall lodge 'mid thornless lote-groves; under mawz-trees thick
with flowers;

Shaded, fed, by flowing waters; near to fruits that never cloy,
Hanging ever ripe for plucking; and at hand the tender joy,

Of those Maids of Heaven--the Huris. Lo! to these we gave a birth
Specially creating. Lo! they are not as the wives of earth.

Ever virginal and stainless, howsooften they embrace,
Always young, and loved, and loving, these are. Neither is there grace,

Like the grace and bliss the Black-eyed keep for you in Paradise;
Oh, "Companions of the Right Hand"! oh! ye others who were wise!

_DEDICATION OF A POEM FROM THE SANSKRIT_.

Sweet, on the daisies of your English grave
I lay this little wreath of Indian flowers,
Fragrant for me because the scent they have
Breathes of the memory of our wedded hours;

For others scentless; and for you, in heaven,
Too pale and faded, dear dead wife! to wear,
Save that they mean--what makes all fault forgiven--
That he who brings them lays his heart, too, there.

_April_ 9, 1865.

_THE RAJAH'S RIDE_.

A PUNJAB SONG.

Now is the Devil-horse come to Sindh!
Wah! wah! gooroo!--that is true!
His belly is stuffed with the fire and the wind,
But a fleeter steed had Runjeet Dehu!

It's forty koss from Lahore to the ford,
Forty and more to far Jummoo;
Fast may go the Feringhee lord,
But never so fast as Runjeet Dehu!

Runjeet Dehu was King of the Hill,
Lord and eagle of every crest;
Now the swords and the spears are still,
God will have it--and God knows best!

Rajah Runjeet sate in the sk